The Wind in the Void
by JLake4
Summary: After being revived by Cerberus, Commander Shepard is sent on a mission to end the Covenant threat to humanity once and for all. Meanwhile, the Arbiter is sent on a mission to end the threat of Separatists expanding their civil war into Citadel space and triggering a galactic conflict. Despite this turmoil, the Reapers are constantly drawing nearer...
1. Prologue: Speedy Recovery

**A/N:**

**Hi all. I'm adding a few short chapters to the front end of the story as the first step to a total rewrite of the story, so you'll be getting some new content over the coming weeks. I started to lose faith in the direction I was taking the story before, so I started working on improvements over the past few weeks. **

**Thanks for your patience.**

**JLake4**

* * *

All eyes rested on the operating table in the center of the room, whereupon lay the naked body of Spectre John Shepard.

Beside the table was the beautiful Miranda Lawson, though her staff would rather jump out an airlock than say that to her. She leaned over the unconscious Shepard, checking over every square centimeter of his body.

"Minor facial scarring remains, but it won't take much time to fix that. We can wake him up beforehand," Miranda said, leaning inches above Shepard's face. He smelled of disinfectant and the myriad chemicals used to resurrect his dead flesh.

"We logged that, Miranda," the chief medical officer, Wilson, said. He ran a hand over his bald scalp and stepped back, putting his back to a wall.

"Dr. Lawson," a voice on the intercom called, startling everyone in the silent room. Miranda didn't start, but she felt frustration putting a cold vice on her insides.

"I said we are not to be disturbed," she replied to the ceiling, where the speaker rested.

"You've got to come upstairs. It's an emergency. We've got to make a Code Black call," the voice said.

Frustration relinquished its grip immediately, and Miranda shoved a datapad into Wilson's arms as she turned around. "Find security and get them to this room, now."

Wilson's eyes betrayed his total confusion as his boss left the room. He didn't know, but Code: Black meant the Lazarus Project had been found out. He dutifully followed Miranda from the room and made the call to the security station several levels down, ordering them to activate all the Loki mechs on the station and send them to his location.

Miranda knew that when she got upstairs to the command center there would be one or more contacts on the LADAR screens. The station would already be at high alert, and if Wilson did his job internal security would form an army of mechs between invaders and Shepard.

She rounded a corner and boarded a lift, riding it to the stop that led directly into the command center. Taking a short breath, she opened the door.

In her long career in intelligence, few things had ever surprised Miranda Lawson. What she saw projected on the screens in the control center shocked her to her very core. A Covenant battlecruiser drifted plaintively through space on an approach to Lazarus Station. Already LADAR detected the deployment of several wings of fighters from the ship's hangar bay, while Cerberus' own fighters read as fueled and ready to launch.

"Why aren't our fighters launched?" Miranda shouted, startling the command crew. Without replying the orders were issued and the defensive forces launched, forming up a few kilometers from the station before setting a course to intercept the Covenant fighters.

The battle began to unfold before Miranda's eyes, though her defensive assets numbered far fewer than the Covenant's. The Lazarus Project's defense was secrecy, so few fighters and no cruisers called the station home. Also due to the secrecy of the project, distress signals bore heavy encryption and bounced through several comm. buoys to hide the base's location. The signal departed as soon as the Covenant ship appeared in-system, but it hadn't reached any Cerberus outposts yet. It would be another minute or so before anyone knew they were in trouble.

Several ships, determined by LADAR to be the Covenant's hardy "Phantom" drop ships, drove through the interceptor screen and bore down on the station. As soon as they crossed the range threshold of the Station's point-defense lasers they fired, lighting up the Covenant ships and destroying a few. Debris pelted the station's hull, thudding loudly against it.

Conversely, as the Covenant battlecruiser reached the fighter screen it too opened fire with point-defense batteries that all but wiped out the defending fighters as they scattered to avoid it. Small, instantaneous flashes of fire denoted the last moments of the pilots assigned to defend Miranda—and Shepard.

"Do what you can to keep those shuttles from docking," Miranda said, turning to leave the command center. The Covenant ship drew up alongside the station, lining the hangar bays with those on the station. The doors closed as soon as the fighters deployed, but she suspected that wouldn't stop the Covenant.

As she boarded the lift the station rocked violently, confirming her theory that they'd just carve through the heavy doors of the hangar bays.

"Attention," a bored synthetic voice said. "Hostiles have boarded Lazarus Station. All defensive personnel report to floor four, all nonessential personnel report to the hangars for evacuation."

Miranda pressed the button for the fourth floor, riding the lift down. When she reached the bottom, the lights in the lift shaft turned red, as did the lights in the hallway on the opposite sides of the doors.

Human-shaped Loki mechs lined the hall, scanning side to side in the deep red light. The station rocked again as the Covenant broke into another hangar bay, and the Loki mechs uniformly rotated their heads to the right in the direction of the breach.

Miranda proceeded up the hall between the ranks of Loki mechs, back toward the chamber that housed Shepard. At the door stood two human guards and her executive officer, Jacob Taylor, all looking alarmed. Jacob looked closely into his omnitool, which projected a map of the station. Red dots spread out from the hangar bays as he watched.

"How bad?" Miranda asked. Jacob didn't seem surprised to see her, looking up and meeting her blue eyes.

"Bad," he replied. "At least a hundred, and the Lokis don't stand a chance. Organic guards aren't doing much better."

"Damn it," Miranda said. She unlocked the door and led Jacob through into a small antechamber before the main room. "We've got to get Shepard off the station. I'm going to wake him up."

"Are you sure about this?" Jacob asked. "Won't it be easier to move him unconscious?"

"You mean wheel a gurney through a battlefield?" Miranda shot back.

"Well, I was hoping we'd try to avoid the aliens," Jacob said. The two proceeded into the room with Shepard on the table. The medical staff had evacuated as ordered.

"That won't be possible. They've breached the hangar bays," Miranda responded. "We're going to have to fight our way out, and I'd rather have humanity's greatest soldier on hand to do that."

"He'll still be groggy. He won't be effective at all," Jacob objected. He put his hand on Miranda's shoulder, a gesture that would've led to the serious injuring of 99% of the station's inhabitants. "I don't think he's ready."

Miranda stopped for a second, turning to Jacob. "The Covenant doesn't take prisoners, Jacob. They'll kill everyone aboard this station, us and Shepard included. I don't know why they're here but if Terra Nova is any indication, they'll get what they want and destroy the place. We can't drag Shepard out of here, so we need him to walk."

Jacob stood back, nodding. "You know I won't let any harm come to him. You make the call."

Miranda took a fraction of a second to "make the call" and began administering the drugs to wake Shepard up. The process would take a while, but two of the heaviest doors in Citadel space stood between Miranda, Jacob, and Shepard and the Covenant forces spreading out across the station. As she worked, she looked up at Jacob, who stood with his rifle at the ready. "We need a way cleared to get Shepard out of here. Go out the back door and past my office toward the executive hangar bay. My shuttle is there, that's how we're leaving."

"Alright," Jacob said, casting one more glance at Shepard before departing through the door at the far end of the room. It closed behind him, locking down again as Miranda leaned over Shepard's face, looking for signs of activity in his eyes. They remained still, though.

"Come on, wake up," Miranda said, placing her hand softly on his forehead and pulling up his eyelids. The eyes stared blankly upward. After that panic began to set in, and she feared he wouldn't wake up. "Wake up Shepard, wake up!"


	2. Prologue II: The Hunt

**A/N: **

**The second of three miniature prologue chapters I'm posting to improve the beginning of the story is here! After the next one goes up (tonight? tomorrow?) I'll begin the complete rewrite in earnest. I strongly recommend reading the chapters that go up as I rewrite because the story will be almost totally different. **

**As always, thanks for reading and bearing through this with me. **

**JLake4**

* * *

"They have departed from the Void," Shipmaster Nakra 'Haridee announced to those on the command bridge.

_So, the thrice-damned heretics have tired of the chase_, the Arbiter thought. _So much the better, I tire of the hunt_. _It is long past the time to end them_.

"We must leave the Void as well," the Arbiter said. "We hunted this particular ship for too long. Only the Gods know how many others we have yet to find."

"As you command," 'Haridee said, bowing before issuing his orders.

The process of re-entering real space went smoothly, as the crew of the _Prophet's Will _knew exactly their part in it. They drilled compulsively at the Arbiter's behest, and their training helped them to eliminate heretic vessels with mechanical precision and speed.

The displays projected around the pulpit in the center of the bridge, which until recently showed nothing but the blackness of the Void, changed to images of a tall space station built in the image of an elongated spade. Beside it drifted their quarry, another battle cruiser.

The Prophets charged him with the elimination of every heretic he could find, but they no longer sat in their ship. This merely inconvenienced him, setting him behind schedule.

"Bring the _Prophet's Will_ alongside and bombard the heretics," the Arbiter ordered. He left the pulpit, and issued one final order. "Prepare my spirit for immediate departure."

* * *

Five minutes later, the tuning fork-shaped spirit tore through space, leading the _Prophet's Will_ into battle. The defensive forces lay in ruins, dead hulks drifting through space, and nothing barred the Arbiter's approach to the station's ruptured hangar bays.

Alongside him stood eighteen of the best special operations sangheili in the Covenant. They held the best weapons and armor short of his own or the zealots. Their white armor shone brightly even in the dark light, something the Arbiter interpreted as a sign of the impending success of this mission.

Each sangheili in the spirit wore airtight armor, given they would be fighting on a beleaguered space station and breaches would almost certainly happen, if they haven't already.

A light blinked at both ends of the troop compartment, signalling their arrival. Exactly three seconds later the doors parted in the middle, just below eye level for the eight foot tall Arbiter, and revealed the blasted interior of the hangar.

The metal, previously sterling white, now bore scoring from plasma bolts and shrapnel from the doors imbedded in it. Artificial gravity still held everything to the ground, but the Arbiter's heads-up display showed they stood in a vacuum.

His operators fanned out and cleared the cavernous room, setting it up as a command post of some kind. The Arbiter had never been a special forces type, and as such the particulars of their jobs did not interest him.

His job did. As he approached a door with a blinking red light above it, he thought about just how many heretics would be slain by the end of this operation.

_How many score have I slain since assuming this title?_ he thought absently as he searched for an interface to open the airlock. An orange holograph appeared at the midpoint of the door, with several circles turning idly as it wondered if it should unlock. _Not enough, as it seems_.

The pad turned green, and the door came apart, admitting the Arbiter and half a dozen special operators. They crammed into the room and the door to the hangar closed. Air hissed through vents on the floor, walls, and ceiling in a white mist. Once it reached an appropriate level, they emerged into a hallway bathed in red light.

"Find the heretics," the Arbiter said to his men. "Find them and kill them."

"To the last unggoy," one of the operators said. "Yes, sir."

Three operators went each way down the hall, leaving the Arbiter alone in the red light. With air to allow the transmission of sound, he could hear the station moaning as the structural weaknesses created by the destroyed hangar bays gave it somewhere to flex with each impact from the heretic ship's cannons. It did not have long to go.

The Arbiter turned left on a whim, continuing down the hall to a four-way intersection with another hall. After pausing and listening to weapons firing directly ahead of him, he turned to the right and proceeded deeper into the station.

A tinny electronic voice called out from up the hall, saying, "Unidentified target, halt for identification."

Bemused, the Arbiter halted, waiting for the thing to show its face. Around the corner tapped the metal feet of a feeble-looking machine roughly the height of an unggoy. "Target sighted. Firing."

The Arbiter's amusement disappeared and he drew his energy sword, the _Blade of the Arbiter_, slashing horizontally across the thing's chest and sending it to the ground in two pieces.

"Allied force casualty," a chorus of other mechanical voices said from around the corner. The cacophony of metallic feet hitting the floor brought a grim smile to the Arbiter's four jaws. He brandished his sword and charged around the corner, cleaving through a dozen other machines with ease.

_Not only are they their height_, the Arbiter thought, _but they fight as well as unggoy_.

As he proceeded through the wreckage of the guardian machines, he spotted several other sangheili… but they were not special operators.

Heretics.

He reignited his blade and lept into the midst of them, who huddled around a door while trying to force entry.

The first two fell with the first slash, cleaved in half by the _Blade_. Their third comrade had time to draw his plasma rifle and fire a shot before an upward slash parted him with his hand, sending him to the floor in a scream of agony. One more downward drive and all three heretics lay dead. The Arbiter powered down his Blade, looking at the door himself.

Something undoubtedly drew the interest of the heretics, but he could not think of what it may be. The door was nothing special. He found a pad similar to the one that had opened the airlock, but it projected a hologram the glowed an angry red color.

"Interesting," he muttered, slipping into the human language. When alone, he practiced it to keep his skills sharp. He had learned much since his conversations with the human above the ice world. _I wonder what ever happened to him_, the Arbiter thought as the light turned green without any prompting.

He stood back as the door opened, revealing five humans. At the forefront was a human woman in a white body suit decorated with hexagons. To her side was a darker skinned human in black armor. Both pointed weapons at the Arbiter.

Behind them was a balding man that looked at the Arbiter with an amusing level of complete terror, an unobtrusive looking human with blond hair and a gaping wound in her chest, and most interestingly a human man with glowing scars on his face.

"What did you just say?" the woman asked, though the way she pronounced her words was difficult for the Arbiter to understand. She repeated herself.

"I said 'Interesting', I believe it was the right word. I was interested in why those heretics were trying to get through this door," the Arbiter replied, surprised when the human in black armor started to lower his pistol.

"I don't think its hostile, Miranda," the black-armored human said.

"Don't be absurd," the human woman said. "Look what its people did to the station."

"These are not my people," the Arbiter said. "They are outcasts, raiders… heretics."

The scarred human spoke up. "If it wanted us dead, it would have killed us the moment you opened the door."

_Indeed I would have_, the Arbiter didn't say. "I do not want you dead," the Arbiter did say.

"How many more of you are there on this station?" the woman with the strange accent asked.

"Most likely a dozen lances or more. You are quite outnumbered, and the heretics seem intent on destroying this place. I recommend evacuation," the Arbiter replied in passable English.

"Brilliant idea," the human woman said in a sarcastic tone. "Can we get to the executive hangar bay from here?"

The Arbiter had no idea where that was. "I do not know."

"Which way did you come from?" she asked.

The Arbiter pointed up the hall.

"Is there anything alive up there?" the woman asked again.

"No," the Arbiter said. "Save for my men. They will not attack you."

"Thank you," the woman said, pushing past him and dragging her train of humans along behind her. The wounded one filed out last, still clutching a pistol in her right hand as she limped forward. He watched them disappear around the corner before returning to the hunt for the heretics.

_Such a strange encounter_, he thought as he proceeded deeper still into the station.


	3. Chapter 1: The Mission

**A/N: **

**So this chapter ran way longer than I expected. As such, I'm not going to call it a prologue chapter. It's too long for that, I think. So this'll be the official chapter 1, and starting tonight I'm going to begin rewriting all the other main chapters. **

**Thanks again!**

**JLake4**

* * *

Shepard felt useless. His eyes went unused for two years, and the station built of clean white metal and bright overhead lights rendered him blind. His limbs felt heavy and his muscles weak, making walking an achievement. He couldn't fight since he would just as soon shoot a friendly target as an enemy one. They were all greyish blotches on a field of white to him.

A woman with an exotic accent seemed to be in charge. Out of everything, Shepard's ears worked best. She and a man with a deep voice seemed to be leading the group through the station.

They left the encounter with the strange-sounding alien, one which Shepard committed to memory. The room they got trapped in had no lights, and when the alien opened the door he glimpsed the silver armor on its tall body as it eclipsed the light coming through the door.

The alien seemed reasonable, which is odd for a species attacking a space station.

Was it just one species? He heard two distinct voices from the aliens, maybe three. The woman hadn't told him much. They didn't have much time.

He kept his hand locked on a belt wrapped around the woman's waist. He couldn't remember her name. _Amanda? Something like that. _

His mind spun as he tried to make sense of this sensory overload. All at once he went from blackness into light, and his mind fought to get itself together.

"Stop!" the woman yelled. Shepard didn't register this and his momentum carried him into her, nearly pushing her out of cover.

"Sorry Amanda," he muttered, his lips feeling numb.

"Please stop calling me Amanda," the woman said. "My name is Miranda, not Amanda. And I can hear you mumbling behind me."

"Oh," Shepard said. He stood back at arm's length from _Mir_anda. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Miranda said, her tone belying that message. _It most certainly is not fine_, was the real message.

He still had his hand wrapped around her belt when she spun around to talk to the other guy. His wrist got wrenched at an odd angle and hurt a little, but he remained silent. A dull throbbing started in his temples as he tried not to focus on it.

"Jacob, we're here. Take the commander to the shuttle," Miranda said, her voice closer to Shepard's left ear. He assumed she was right next to it.

"Alright," the deeper voice said. Shepard relinquished his vice-grip on Miranda's belt and tried to walk around her, a move too complicated for his shaky muscles. He collided with her again, earning an obviously frustrated grunt from her. A hand wrapped itself around Shepard's good wrist and pulled him away, into a much colder room. "Come on, Commander."

Everything went from white to grey as they proceeded further into the room. The medical scrubs someone had put on him were insufficient to stand up to this cold, and as they moved briskly across the room he felt air blowing up the shirt that chilled him even further.

After climbing a ramp, another immensely difficult task, something hissed and a mechanical clank followed, and he felt the hand maneuver him into a dark place.

"Where am I?" Shepard asked the darkness.

"You're in the back of a shuttle. We're getting you out of here," the deep voice said. Shepard assumed the owner turned his head, because in a strange combination of muffled and loud he heard Jacob shout, "Miranda, we're good to go!"

A belt got fastened around Shepard's midsection, probably by Jacob. He pressed his back into the seat, listening to hurried footsteps move up the ramp. Somebody pressed into the seat next to Shepard, buckling themselves in. Three more metal clicks signified that everyone got aboard, and the metallic clank and hiss happened again in reverse order.

"Airlock is good, mass effect drive is up and running. Let's get out of here," Jacob said. Shepard felt the shuttle jar loose of the mechanisms locking it into the ground, but after that he had no sensation of the shuttle's movement due to its internal gravity generators.

"Look out!" an unfamiliar third voice, only moments later.

"Look at the size of that thing!" the wounded woman said from beside Shepard. "I can't believe it."

"There's two!" the third man, Wilson, said. "Look out for the debris!"

"Shut him up!" Miranda snapped, evidently piloting the shuttle herself. A few minutes later, she said, "Course to Minuteman Station plotted. Engaging FTL drive."

Again, Shepard felt nothing, but he was starting to regain his sight a little in the darker confines of the shuttle. Across from him he could see a white human shape taking a seat next to a grey one.

"How are you feeling, Shepard?" Miranda asked.

"Like I died," Shepard responded. The throbbing had long since been replaced by a screaming migraine, one so bad he felt sure that his vision would be blurred regardless. His wrist still ached, along with the entirety of his body.

"I can't even imagine," Miranda said. "You may not feel like it now, but we rebuilt your muscles and bones with the same amount of tone they had before. You won't need much physical therapy at all, by design."

"I can't believe it," Shepard replied, pressing his thumbs to his temples. "Do you have anything for headaches?"

"Sorry, Shepard, my pain meds went to her," Miranda said, gesturing to the wounded girl.

Shepard sighed. His mind struggled to stay focused on Miranda and not on his head. "What… what were those things? What is happening?"

"In the broad strokes, a new race emerged while you were… out," Jacob said from Shepard's right.

"The Covenant. Five races joined together to form the Covenant, and we found them a year ago," Miranda continued.

"They joined… like the Citadel?" Shepard asked.

"More or less, except the Covenant is based on a religion. We don't have much information for the religion, but their dedication to it is fanatical," Miranda said. "There's five of them we know of: elites, jackals, hunters, grunts, and prophets."

"Those are their real names?" Shepard asked.

"Of course not," Miranda replied. "They've got names for themselves in their own language. I was using the english-language equivalent for simplicity's sake."

"Alright, fine," Shepard said, putting his head up against the cold metal of the shuttle. It helped to soothe the headache.

"I'll fill you in on the details once we get back to the station," Jacob said. "After you talk to our boss."

"That's another thing," Shepard said, a question that smoldered in his mind finally coming to the forefront. "Who are you people?"

"Shepard," Jacob said, "We're with Cerberus."

He felt very cold again. "Cerberus?"

Admiral Kahoku's death. Monstrous experiments on human subjects. Terrorism.

"Listen, Shepard, we've changed. We know what you did to our operations in the Traverse. We know what you saw," Miranda said, attempting damage control. "We've changed in the past two years."

"You can't wipe out that sort of history with two words," Shepard growled. "I want nothing to do with Cerberus."

"I understand," Jacob said, cutting Miranda off. "All we ask is that you talk to our boss. He put a lot of money into bringing you back. All we want is for you to meet him."

Though his mind still swam and his head felt like it would split apart with the slightest impact, he knew when a choice was being offered and when it wasn't. "Fine, I'll go."

"Thank you," Jacob said. No one spoke after that.

By the time the shuttle arrived at its destination Shepard's sight had mostly returned, though his headache went untreated. He most of the flight checking out the Cerberus people in the shuttle, trying to see if they had any intention of harming him.

He squinted as the doors opened, expecting more sterile white interiors and fluorescent lights. In a fortunate turn of events the hangar did not blind him, as it consisted of dark metal floors and walls.

Jacob got out first, followed by Wilson and the wounded girl. Wilson took the wounded girl out of the hangar, and Shepard followed Jacob toward another door. Miranda fell into step beside Jacob, and the two talked about something in a hushed tone.

The trio passed through an airlock and into an antechamber of sorts, a room with no use except to separate two others. The floor extended a long way away from the door they'd come through, leading to another door. To the left stood a few booths with computer terminals mounted in them. Miranda moved to one such computer and opened it, tapping out a short message.

"The Illusive Man is ready for you," she said, looking up at Shepard. The door at the end of the hall opened, inviting him in.

Shepard proceeded through the door and down an incline, where another door stood open. After going through this door, it closed, sealing him in a square room.

Panic set in almost immediately. He berated himself for a moment, but he stopped when he saw orange lights flash on around a circle in the floor he'd stepped on. They traced up his body and disappeared.

Across the room a hologram appeared, projected from some hidden holotank in the floor or ceiling.

In a chair, she saw the silhouette of a man who lifted a glowing cigarette to his lips. The tip flared brighter orange for an instant before being eclipsed by a thick cloud of smoke. Two pinpoints of blue light stared at Shepard from above the cigarette, which drifted down to the arm of the chair, where Shepard assumed there was an ash tray.

"Commander Shepard," the man said in a smoky voice with a slight drawl.

"You're the man who runs Cerberus. The Illusive Man," Shepard said, examining the machinery around him.

"Yes," the Illusive Man replied flatly. He stated a fact, no apologies or justifications. Just… "Yes."

Shepard crossed his arms. "I've heard I'm a pretty expensive piece of equipment. Where'd a terrorist organization get the funding to bring me back? Why?"

The Illusive Man swatted smoothly at a cloud of smoke, in one gesture dispelling that and ignoring the first half of Shepard's question. "Humanity's up against the greatest military power in the galaxy, and we need our best soldier leading the charge."

"By the 'greatest power', you mean the Reapers?" Shepard asked.

"No," the Illusive Man began, before changing his mind. "Not entirely. The Reapers are an existential threat to humanity, I agree. However, we don't know when they are due to arrive. I trust the Beacon didn't tell you how fast they move via FTL drives, did it? If they truly are in Dark Space, it could take them decades to arrive now that you've shut down their primary point of entry to the galaxy. A far more immediate threat exists in the Covenant."

The Illusive Man's hologram disappeared, replaced by the image of a planet. Shepard saw fires burning across the blackened crust. It looked like a volcanic disaster occurred planet-wide.

"What is this?" Shepard asked, giving up on his internal guessing game.

"What you're looking at is what's left of Terra Nova," the Illusive Man said, appearing where the burnt-out husk hovered.

Shepard dropped his arms, shocked. "There's no way any fleet did that. It would take the turians a year to bombard a planet so totally, and they'd need a hell of a lot more firepower than they've got."

"Exactly my point, Shepard," the Illusive Man said. "The Covenant has ships twenty times the size of the biggest dreadnoughts any Citadel race has. Three ships did that to Terra Nova. They've secured an embassy on the Citadel and have diplomatic representation even as they burn our worlds and send scouts throughout our space. The Council is too afraid to move, Shepard. I'm not, though."

"What do you mean?" Shepard asked. He wished now that he'd seen these aliens, cursing his eyes for failing him. "What can anyone do?"

"We've got to get them back. Any Citadel race will get wiped out in direct combat, but we can't allow them to run roughshod over the galaxy," the Illusive Man explained. "That's where you come in, and why I sunk billions of credits into your reconstruction. You're going to be our best hope at striking a crippling blow to the Covenant."

"How?" Shepard asked, interrupting.

The Illusive Man held up a hand, like a patient father with a child. "The Covenant is run by a cadre of 'Prophets'. We've only ever seen three at one time, so our best guess is that there are three that run the Covenant. Your mission is to infiltrate Covenant space and find and eliminate these Prophets, thereby beheading the Covenant. Once their leadership is destroyed, the Citadel can be rallied against them and humankind can sleep easily once again."

"That's a little far-fetched," Shepard countered. "It'd take a lot to rally the Citadel against anything, especially a threat they see as beaten."

"We just have to show them the Covenant isn't invincible," the Illusive Man replied coolly. He took another puff on a cigarette Shepard didn't even notice him lighting. "I'm sure the turians are chafing after being knocked back to number two in terms of military power. The salarians would like a piece of the Covenant's technology, which is guarded tightly. It's also booby-trapped; I lost a few good men to their traps, the weapons just explode if they're taken apart. The asari would hate to see a threat to their economic dominance. The humans… well, do I need to show you Terra Nova again?"

"No," Shepard replied, thoroughly outmaneuvered by the Illusive Man's reasoning. Everyone had a reason not to like the new kids on the block, and they all waited for a reason to take a shot at them. It made sense. "How do we do it?"

"You'll need to assemble a team. I've got dossiers of several people who'll be integral on your mission," the Illusive Man said, sending them to Shepard's omnitool with a flick of his wrist.

Shepard looked them over for a few moments while the Illusive Man looked on patiently. "Professor, warlord, Justicar, thief… that's too many moving parts. What the hell is an 'Archangel' anyway?"

"You need a professor to fortify your armor and barriers. As for the rest, they're extremely specialized in their subject areas. A justicar would be most useful as biotics seem to be one of the few things we have and the Covenant doesn't," the Illusive Man replied. "I know you're a little skeptical, but you've got to take my word on this. This mission has been planned out for a long time."

The two remained silent for a few minutes. Shepard wrestled with his distrust of Cerberus and the threat of the Covenant, as well as the threat of the Reapers. His felt inclined to ignore the Covenant in favor of preparing for the Reapers- perhaps even using the Covenant to help fight the Reapers. The Covenant destroyed Terra Nova, if the Illusive Man could be believed. That's four million dead humans.

Something Ambassador Udina said echoed in Shepard's mind: _Remember you were a human before you were a Spectre_.

_I guess I can't be a terrorist if I don't do anything terroristic_, he thought. Shepard sighed heavily. "I… where do I begin?"

"Omega," the Illusive Man said, snuffing out his cigarette. "You'll need the 'professor' first."

"How do I get there?" Shepard asked, figuring 'the shuttle you came in on' would not be the answer.

"Miranda will show you," the Illusive Man said, lighting a third cigarette. "Shepard- good luck."

The room lit up again, and the Illusive Man disappeared. Shepard blinked a few times and turned to leave, spotting Miranda standing in the doorway.

"He said he wanted you to show me how we're getting to Omega," Shepard said. _This has to be a dream_, he found himself wondering, not for the first time.

"Right," Miranda said, beckoning him to follow her through a different door. They entered a long hallway with one wall consisting of many large windows. "As you know, the Lazarus Project was tasked with rebuilding you. A separate section, though, was tasked with resurrecting you ship."

"The _Normandy_? You rebuilt her?" Shepard asked, recalling that his last memory of the _Normandy_ was her destruction.

"Not exactly," Miranda said, keying something into her omnitool. Shutters lifted off the windows and lights ignited in what Shepard realized was a massive hangar. As they came on, they illuminated the glistening hull of a newly-built ship in a familiar long, narrow shape.

In the middle of the hangar sat a ship Shepard recognized to be a larger iteration of the _Normandy_ SR-1. The new _Normandy_ extended almost half as long again as the old ship. Also of note, it had a redesigned tail and much larger thrusters.

_I can't believe it_, Shepard thought, taking the sight in. A Cerberus emblem marred the hull, the only negative aspect of the new _Normandy_.

"Pretty nice, eh Commander?" a voice called out from behind the two of them.

"We found you a pilot you can trust," Miranda said, leaving '_because we know you don't trust us_' unsaid.

Shepard turned from the sight of the _Normandy_ SR-2 and saw the pilot of the _Normandy_ SR-1, Jeff "Joker" Moreau hobbling up the stairs.

"Joker!" Shepard said, moving to help him toward the window. "What are you doing here?"

"The Council buried you deep when the Alliance called you KIA," Joker said. "They split up the crew, told everyone to keep quiet, and grounded me. It's almost like they didn't want rumors of giant killer space robots spreading."

"I don't think it's a rumor," Shepard said. "What happened to everyone?"

"They tried to get Garrus back into C-Sec," Joker said. "But he didn't want that stick you worked so hard pulling out placed back into his ass. He went off the grid just a few months later. Ashley went back to doing her soldier thing. Liara went back to asari space, I think she's on Illium. Who else?"

"Tali?" Shepard asked.

"She's gone back to the Flotilla," Joker replied. "Oh and Wrex went back to Hellhole. Er, Tuchanka. They're the same thing."

"I've got a whole list of people they want us to pick up," Shepard said. "I think we're going to be pretty busy for the next few weeks."

"So I'm guessing they want us going after the Covenant?" Joker asked, casting a curious glance at Shepard. "I mean, if they're burning up planets they probably don't want us wasting time on the Reapers, or anything."

Shepard peeked over at Miranda, who despite appearing not to be listening was almost certainly listening. "They're calling the Covenant the bigger threat. I guess we have to, but I won't pass up any opportunity to slow the Reapers down."

"Alright," Joker said, speaking louder. "Let's give you the grand tour."


	4. Chapter 2: The First Step

A massive holographic display of the ship dominated the new Combat Information Center, casting an orange glow across the room until the moment Shepard stepped upon the familiar podium. At that point an image of the galaxy appeared, spinning peacefully.

_Omega: a galactic cesspool where all the trash of the Traverse and Terminus Systems collects. Why would a world-class salarian genius go there?_

"Omega," Shepard said aloud, and the map zoomed in to a spot in the Terminus Systems. It closed in to the view of an ugly brown mushroom-shaped space station.

_Portobello_, Shepard thought. _If it was a mushroom, it would be portobello_.

"Plotting course, Commander," a synthetic female voice said. "We should take approximately one hour and forty-four minutes to arrive in the Omega Nebula."

"Thank you," Shepard said, still a little upset that an AI watched everything they did and invariably reported it to the Illusive Man.

The girl working on a console to his right, a redhead with a soft voice said, "Commander, Miranda would like to speak to you when you've got a chance."

_What's your name_? Shepard thought. He replayed through their conversation earlier. '_Don't call me Yeoman Chambers, call me…' Kelly, right._ "Thanks, Kelly. Let her know I'll be up in a minute."

He prepared himself for the first of what would likely extend to be several meetings between himself and Miranda. She'd explained it as an effort to catch him up on galactic events.

Shepard left the CIC, stepping into the elevator directly behind his podium. The door closed behind him and the elevator descended a floor to the crew deck, where he would find Miranda's office. Captain Anderson once occupied the space on this ship's predecessor, as had Shepard.

The door to the room stood to the side of the mess hall, opposite the infirmary. Unlike the infirmary, it didn't appear to have any windows. Lunch ended an hour ago, so the mess was empty, save for the cook. The cook offered a friendly wave as Shepard passed, which he returned. He reached the door to Miranda's quarters and opened it, finding her inside.

"Good afternoon, Shepard," she said. "EDI told me we're on our way to Omega, that's good."

"Hi, Miranda," Shepard said, stepping through the door and taking a seat opposite her. "What's the story on this Mordin Solus?"

"I know what you know," Miranda said. "Salarian scientist, 36 years old. Former Special Tasks Group operative, though all we can get on that is that he was STG. He's on Omega for reasons unknown, though given his advanced age it might be his retirement."

"Can't imagine why," Shepard said.

"Neither can I," Miranda agreed. "Omega is a terrible place. It's a wasteland."

"We'll make the pick up quick, then," Shepard said.

"Good," Miranda said.

Shepard nodded, silently chafing under Cerberus' omnipresence on the ship. Patronizing approval or scathing disapproval met everything Shepard said since waking up. He felt like a tool firmly in Cerberus' grip.

After a few seconds of silence, Miranda cleared her throat and stood up. "Anyway, we've got to talk about the Covenant. There's a massive technology gap you need to know about."

"So fill me in," Shepard said, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms across his chest. "I've read the dossiers, what more is there to know?"

"What about their weapons- what do they use for ammunition?" Miranda asked.

"'The Covenant's weapons use highly-charged plasma that has a tendency to fry the circuitry of most kinetic barrier generators on contact. Beyond that, it's hot enough that it burns through most armor'," Shepard said, reciting from the dossier on Covenant weapons perfectly.

Miranda let her mouth slide into a slight grin. "That sounds familiar."

"I bet," Shepard said.

"So they've got their pistol and their rifle, both fire plasma bolts. If you get hit, your shields are gone. If you get hit a second time, at best you'll suffer severe burns. Our people recovered another weapon, one fed by actual clips of ammunition. It appears to be a sort of designated marksman rifle, handled almost exclusively by jackals. That is the only one that won't instantly destroy your kinetic barrier's generator," Miranda explained. She paced around the cabin as she spoke, pausing briefly to look out the window. "Their barriers are far more powerful. Multiple shots are required to take them down. The little ones- grunts- have no barriers. The big ones, elites, have barriers. The jackals appear to carry shields made of kinetic barriers, almost like geth shock troopers."

"The Illusive Man said their stuff is rigged to explode if it's tampered with. How do you know anything about their technology?" Shepard asked.

"Most of our information comes from eyewitness reports collected on Terra Nova and Noveria. We designated another cell like Lazarus to research their equipment. It was designated Erasmus. The whole cell was wiped out when a Covenant weapon self-destructed near the bulkhead, depressurizing the station," Miranda said. "The Illusive Man opted out of building another space station to house Erasmus and liquidated them."

_Liquidated how?_ Shepard wondered. _Probably spaced the poor bastards. _"Any idea how they built a ship half the size of the Citadel?"

"None whatsoever," Miranda admitted, grimacing. Shepard couldn't help but feel a little satisfaction that for once she _didn't_ have the answer. He'd come to think of her as an insufferable know-it-all, one he tried to avoid. Her cold demeanor and superiority complex put him off, despite her physical attractiveness. "Also perplexing is how they propel them so fast. Their FTL drives are blindingly fast. They can travel sixty times faster at FTL speeds than our fastest ships."

"So the bottom line: on the ground, we're screwed because their weapons burn out our barriers and burn through our armor too easily. In space we're screwed because their ships are the size of dreadnoughts that can travel extremely fast and fire weapons that melt through the hulls of our ships like an omniblade through paper. How is finding their homeworld a winning proposition?" Shepard scoffed. "Those psychos have all the divine intervention on their side. We won't make it within sight of their homeworld. We need a better plan."

"The _Normandy_ is a stealth ship, so we needn't worry too much about getting within sight of their homeworld. Beyond that, we've got to get Solus so we can upgrade our barriers and armor. He's a genius, Shepard, and a salarian. He alone will do more work than Erasmus managed to do in the short couple of months it existed," Miranda countered. "The plan is always subject to change, if you offer reasonable suggestions."

"The most reasonable suggestion would be not to start a galactic war with them by assassinating their leaders. A galactic war that would be fought, mind you, with resources that should be put toward preparing for the Reapers," Shepard said.

"We have to make sure we're all alive to fight the Reapers first," Miranda said. "If the Covenant wipes us out we won't need to worry about the Reapers."

"This is insane," Shepard said. _If we're going to have it out about the plan, I might as well suggest a _reasonable _alteration_. "What we need to do is find their leadership and appeal to them to help us prepare. I refuse to believe that we 'need' to waste assets fighting the Covenant that have better use elsewhere."

"Shepard, what makes you so sure the Reapers will be here in the next few months and not the next few years? How are you so sure that the Covenant is benign?" Miranda asked, turning to face him. Her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"You don't know what I saw in that beacon. I spoke to Sovereign, and I know they're on their way. It's only a matter of months before they find another way into the galaxy," Shepard said, standing and putting his hands on Miranda's desk, locking his gaze to hers.

"We all know what you did. I don't need the history lesson. I can't, however, figure out how you know their timetable," Miranda replied sarcastically. "Did they let you in on their plans?"

Shepard gritted his teeth. "I could prove all of this to you and your boss if you'd let me have access to my old crew. I have the distinct impression your boss was lying as far as they are concerned. Get me to Liara T'soni, Garrus Vakarian, or Ashley Williams and you'll have all the proof you need."

"He wasn't lying to you, Shepard. Garrus and Liara went to ground and Ashley is on assignment with the Alliance, that's the best information we have," Miranda said.

"You know what you know about the Covenant, but you can't find three of the most notable people in the galaxy," Shepard scoffed. "I don't buy it."

"You don't have to buy it," Miranda said.

"Excuse me," a third voice said. EDI's avatar appeared next to the door behind Shepard, glowing brightly.

"What is it, EDI?" Miranda asked.

"We're arriving in the Omega Nebula now," EDI replied.

"Thank you, EDI," Miranda replied, her eyes momentarily flicking up to the blue sphere floating above a panel on the wall for a moment before it disappeared.

"I'm going to get suited up," Shepard said. "You should too. We're going to find Mordin Solus, then we're continuing this conversation."

"Fine," Miranda said, straightening up. She sounded about as angry as Shepard felt, and the latter left the room with clenched fists.

_She doesn't understand. That chain-smoking asshole in the lounge chair doesn't either. They're too goddamn shortsighted_. _Let's waste the leadership of the most powerful military in the galaxy, making them irrevocably pissed off at us. Perfect idea_!

The elevator slid open and Shepard boarded it alone, riding it up to the armory.

_Here's the new plan: Get Solus, have him disconnect the AI, and beat it to the Citadel to find Anderson_.

The door opened and he nodded to Kelly. She waved back politely, smiling. To the left he found the door to the armory, within which he found Jacob Taylor.

"Hey Commander," Jacob said in his usual neutral-sounding tone. He didn't give much away.

"Hey Jacob," Shepard replied, cooled down somewhat now that he had a rough plan to get out of this mess. "I want you to help me out on Omega, are you up for it?"

"You know it Commander," Jacob replied immediately. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as we dock," Shepard said. He suspected that Jacob was the weak link in the Cerberus chain, and decided to try to feel him out. "You were pretty impressive on that station. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"Alliance Marines," Jacob replied. "Joined up as soon as I hit eighteen. I was a Marine for six years after leaving the Corsairs."

"You were a Corsair, too?" Shepard asked. He whistled. _How did someone with his record fall into step with Cerberus? _"So if you don't mind me asking, why Cerberus?"

"First Eden Prime happened. The whole colony was almost destroyed, and the Alliance let it get whitewashed and swept under the rug. Then Terra Nova happened. The Alliance rolled over and let the Covenant get an embassy on the Citadel, despite perpetrating the attack. Then the Alliance _stayed_ with the Council. That was the final straw. Cerberus got a lot of recruits that year. I was one of them," Jacob explained. "They found me in a meeting on Eden Prime. A few rebels and I were discussing how to make the Alliance figure out the error of its ways when a guy in white and gold came in and told us about Cerberus. Every one of us signed up."

"Rebels in the Exodus Cluster?" Shepard said. "That's bad news."

"Worse news is the violent ones, the Terra Firma types, took over the capital. They took Marines prisoner too," Jacob said. "Rumor has it they're going to put secession to a vote sooner or later. Once they can get everything straightened out over there."

Shepard shook his head. "What do you think about the Covenant?"

"They're damn good at what they do. Incredibly advanced, fanatically dedicated, and as far as the elites go they're amazing fighters. If nothing else, I respect that they're as powerful as they are," Jacob said. "It's not my place to judge their religion or anything, but if they did what they did to Terra Nova because of it… it's wrong somewhere."

Shepard nodded. _I've got what I needed. No need to push_. "Alright, I'll see you at the airlock as soon as we dock." As a punctuation mark Shepard picked up his old M8 Avenger rifle from the table and shouldered it.

Jacob saluted smartly and said, "I'll be there, Commander."

With that Shepard left the room and stood in the CIC, watching Omega draw nearer. In only a few minutes the new _Normandy _would undertake its first mission.

* * *

_A/N:_

_So that's one of many "hanging out on the Normandy" chapters to come. I always felt Shepard swallowed working with Cerberus- an organization that he (in my playthroughs, at least) puts a great deal of effort to dismantling. Consequentially, Shepard is already planning to make a break for it. First things first: find Mordin. _

_Sorry this chapter took awhile. It wasn't the easiest to write since it was 100% just hanging around waiting. That's proven to be tough, and hopefully further chapters like this will come easier. _

_As always, thanks for reading!_

_JLake4_


	5. Chapter 3: On Approach

They picked up the trail of another heretic scout vessel while leaving the site of the last extermination. This vessel struck out for the galactic rim, heading far away from the home systems.

The _Prophets' Will _gave chase. It utilized the mass relays, traveling in seconds what it would take years to travel through the Void.

Throughout the ship, the crew worked diligently to prepare for the next fight. _Prophets' Will_ suffered little damage in her most recent contact, though, so many aboard had light duty. In light of the victory, the Shipmaster doubled rations and authorized a small feast for the sangheili.

Despite the festivities, however, the Arbiter kneeled in the midst of prayer in his chambers.

"To the Gods, I beseech thee to be gracious and defend my ship, my crew, and our Covenant. When we find those that defile your name, I beseech thee to give us the strength to defeat them and the guidance to complete our mission in the name of your Prophets Motivation, Sacrifice, and Constraint."

He stood and removed the ceremonial garb he wore while praying, placing the heavy fur robe into its container and moving across the room to another upright container. This one stretched from floor to ceiling and parted down the middle to reveal his armor, newly polished to a bright sheen.

As he put on his armor, his eyes came to rest on a silver box hidden in the bottom of the locker.

The most sacred artifact entrusted to him, the Blade of the Arbiter, sat in the heavy box at the bottom of the armor locker. Shaped somewhat like a dumbbell, the golden hilt fit into the Arbiter's palm perfectly, matching every crease of his rough grey skin. He placed it into a sheath on his right hip, just above the bright metal thigh plate.

Stepping clear of his chambers, the Arbiter walked up the dimly-lit hall to the bridge. His feet clanked lightly on the grey metal panels that made up the floors, drawing the eyes of several other sangheili who bowed as he passed.

One of them he identified as Nikt 'Jhanovai, the leader of his handpicked special operations team. The Arbiter himself hadn't had the honor of an -ai suffix on his name before being granted his position. It denoted a master of swordsmanship and a nobleman, and in some cases even a kaidon.

"To what do I owe the honor of your presence, Arbiter?" 'Jhanovai asked, dismissing the other sangheili present.

"I have prayed for our continued success," the Arbiter said. "We cannot be unprepared for this most holy of tasks. How are your warriors?"

"Each of them is prepared to lay their live down for the Covenant. The heretics will not be allowed to further tarnish its glorious name. Work is proceeding apace at improving their marksmanship. Even today the warriors have elected to forego the feasts this evening to spend time in the shooting range and training simulators," 'Jhanovai reported.

"Excellent. When they can shoot the mandibles off of a keelbug they will be ready," the Arbiter said. "For now, they must improve."

"Indeed," 'Jhanovai agreed. "We shall double our efforts."

"Excellent," the Arbiter said.

"If I may, Arbiter, where are we pursuing the heretics to now?" 'Jhanovai asked as the two sangheili began to walk up the hall toward the bridge.

"One of their defiled vehicles has struck out for the galactic rim. We detected it leaving the Void near one of the 'mass relays' locations. They disappeared just a few units later. What the aliens have told us regarding the orientation of their relays the heretics must be traveling away from the Empire," the Arbiter explained.

"We should let them perish in the Wastes," 'Jhanovai mused. "Alas, but that would be too kind."

"Indeed," the Arbiter agreed this time. The two senior sangheili emerged onto the bridge of the _Prophets' Will_, regarding a green planet projected before them. Shipmaster 'Haridee spotted the duo and walked purposefully toward them.

"Arbiter. Master 'Jhanovai. The heretics arrived here just before we did, and have commenced in ground operations," the shipmaster reported, coming to a stop before the Arbiter.

"Why?" the Arbiter asked.

"We encountered aberrant Luminations as soon as we entered the system. I can only assume they followed them to the surface," 'Haridee replied.

"How was the Lumination aberrant? Luminaries do not lie," the Arbiter said.

"It could only have been an error," 'Haridee said. "We picked up no fewer than 120 oracles on the surface."

"If I did not know you better, I would assume that you jest," the Arbiter said. His voice betrayed little of the shock he felt.

"Assuredly, I do not," 'Haridee said, turning over the lumination to the Arbiter.

_By the Prophets_, he thought, _we must get down to the planet's surface_.

"Field Master, prepare your warriors for deployment. Shipmaster, engage and destroy the heretic vessel while we descend," the Arbiter said, returning the lumination to 'Haridee. 'Jhanovai and 'Haridee nodded and took their leave.

Twenty minutes later three spirit dropships shrieked through the atmosphere of the jungle planet toward the heretic landing zone. Stormy weather buffeted the ships, making those inside grateful for the harnesses they wore.

On the horizon they saw bright flashes of light where local forces fought against the heretics. Various plumes of black smoke rose to meet the low-hanging grey clouds.

For the first time, the Arbiter felt ill at ease as he flew into an active combat zone. Something wicked seemed to emanate from the jungles below, something that set off a primal instinct to fight or flee. As they neared their objective, the urge to flee grew in kind.

"We must land in a clearing just outside of the main landing site. Make your way northward from where we land," the pilot said to the sangheili in the spirit. A countdown began on the heads-up displays of the team and when the clock hit zero the doors opened up, swinging up and down.

The Arbiter landed first. His feet hit the ground and sank nearly to the heel in mud and soft moss. Rain slashed through the trees, which whipped from side to side rapidly. They landed in a storm- a bad one.

To the north one could hear the battle raging, and see the bright purple flashes of plasma weapons reflecting off the low clouds. Each explosion shook the trees, shaking drops of water

off of them and causing miniature showers within the forest itself.

A series of loud shrieks drew their eyes upward as they fought through the dense foliage and mud, and they saw several wings of unfamiliar fighters streaking toward the battle. Shortly after several more explosions rang out, and more small waves of rain dropped on their armor in an odd metallic patter.

After a long hike that seemed longer given the unease the sangheili felt, they saw the rear ranks of the heretic attack force.

Unggoy stumbled around, carrying weapons and ammunition forward to the sangheili heretics advancing through the jungle.

_What could they be pursuing?_ the Arbiter asked himself. He looked forward and saw nothing through the jungle, even as mass accelerator rounds shredded the foliage.

"What do we do?" 'Jhanovai asked from beside the Arbiter. His deep red armor did little to camouflage him against the dark greens and browns of the jungle, however, the heretics had no reason to look behind them.

"Spread your men out through the trees and wait for my signal to fire. We shall smite them where they stand… they will not take another step forward," the Arbiter said.

'Jhanovai nodded, turning to organize his men in the ambush. The lined up and laid low in the foliage to avoid revealing themselves. In seconds their armor collected a layer of black mud mottled with brown fungus, making them all but invisible.

An all-clear signal flashed across the top of the Arbiter's HUD, and he returned with an all-unit signal for attack. At once a dozen shots from a dozen hidden carbines lanced out at their targets, slaughtering a lance of infantry in the first few seconds of the engagement. The next volley wiped out most of the survivors, leaving two unggoy to scramble out of the line of fire, screeching at the top of their lungs.

"Advance," the Arbiter uttered through an open channel. _I want the heretics to know I'm coming_, he said to himself. _Let them hear my voice and tremble_.

The team of sangheili leapt up out of the mud and struck out across the small clearing the heretics camped in until recently, sprinting to the forest on the other side. No sooner had they arrived than did a team of heretics drawn by the cries of the unggoy arrive to investigate, but by the time they realized the true Covenant attacked them, their foes disappeared into the woods.

In the middle of the jungle, surrounded by the locals and the heretics, the Arbiter's team burst through the trees and onto a cliff that stood nearly thirty meters high, but offered a perfect view of the battlefield.

To the north a large grey structure absorbed several plasma mortars even as they watched. Both from the east and west the heretics advanced, cleaving through the foliage until they reached the clear-cut area around the structure. At that point infantry advanced while the assault guns halted and lobbed plasma mortars into the resilient walls of the base.

_Very direct. Perhaps they are desperate… desperation means they will have left us an opening_, he thought. His eyes swept from one end of the V-shaped attack to the other, searching for weakness.

"Look," 'Jhanovai said, motioning to the center of the line.

"I see it," the Arbiter said. As the heretics closed in on their target their commander directed them outwards, creating a sizable gap between the left and right flanks. "Follow me in."

The Arbiter peered out over the edge of the cliff and spotted a way down. He leapt from outcrop to outcrop and slid down the final few meters of the cliff face, splashing heavily into a knee-deep puddle of scum at the base. One-by-one the team followed him down, and when they all arrived they set out.

Extending nearly fifty meters, the gap in the line provided a perfect point for them to pass through the heretics' lines and outpace their advance. Only a lance of unggoy guarded the vulnerability, an unforgivable flaw to their strategy.

They penetrated the gap with ease and found themselves face-to-face with the aliens, four-eyed creatures standing roughly as tall as a human. These creatures seemed almost as skillful as an unggoy in combat, but as soon as the Arbiter's team eliminated the officers directing them the aliens broke and ran from the fight.

Before long the team crashed through the jungle and into the clearing around the facility long before the heretics could.

A shot rang out suddenly, and the Arbiter felt his left side jerked backwards by the impact of a large round. Wordlessly the squad scattered for cover, but the Arbiter just activated his state-of-the-art active camouflage and advanced.

His assailant appeared to lose him, firing instead at the rest of the sangheili. Electrical sizzling denoted several hits being absorbed by the shielding built into their combat harnesses, and by the time they'd found cover none had been seriously injured.

Silently, invisibly, the Arbiter advanced. He sprinted across the field, well aware that he only had seconds of active camouflage before the power that ran the system needed a recharge.

He hit the wall of the structure just as he became visible again, much to the terror of a guard two meters away. In one motion the Arbiter activated his Blade and slashed across the alien's chest. It fell before it could raise the alarm, clasping at the wound that pierced down to its lungs and prevented any calls for help due to their destruction. Then just like that, the writhing stopped.

The Arbiter stepped over the alien's silent body and deactivated the energy sword, walking forward and searching intently for an entryway. His concentration did not distract him enough that he missed his men eliminating the sniper that had shot him, and their swift advance across the field against scattered fire from the building itself.

Finally he found a door, recessed half a meter into the building face and secured by two firing ports located on either side of it. He could hear the guttural voices of the quadrocloptic aliens as they talked about the gunfire on the other side of the complex. Behind the door he heard the hurried footsteps of troops moving toward a combat area and alerted his men to the coming reinforcements.

As the two aliens spoke more rapidly the Arbiter took advantage of their distracted state and leapt from behind the wall, pitching a plasma grenade through the opening and onto the side of the head of one of the guards.

The moment the grenade hit the alien's flesh, it seared itself into place with a piercing screech that built to crescendo of blue flame and screaming. The grenade tore the alien apart, killing his companion and leaving the door unguarded.

Moving rapidly, the Arbiter ran his hand across the door and found the red panel that told him the locks engaged. He exhaled sharply and looked at the firing port he'd thrown the grenade through. The immense heat of the plasma had warped the concrete and blown about half of the wall apart, cracking the weak building material and leaving it black and smoking.

Before reinforcements could arrive, he took his other plasma grenade and activated it, lodging it deep into the crack on the inside of the firing port. He rolled away just moments before a second explosion tore apart the wall and shot bits of concrete into the clearing, where they started small fires as they landed.

Turning the corner, the Arbiter advanced into the darkened interior of the building through billowing smoke and the ever-increasing feeling that had been begging him to go no closer. The interior of the building muffled the sound of the battle, seemingly isolating him in the semi-darkness. He fought it back, but knew in his heart that it hadn't been pre-mission anxiety that worked so hard to stay his feet.

It was fear.


	6. Chapter 4: Omega

The whole station of Omega reeked. Sickly brown light permeated the thick air and blood stains decorated the ground and walls. A mixture of lowlife batarians, turians, and humans walked the plaza next to where the Normandy docked. Across the way the loud bass of some song reverberated from the Afterlife nightclub, drawing Shepard's eyes to the long line people who wanted to get in.

"I've searched for references to Professor Mordin Solus in any documents I could find on the databases kept by Aria T'Loak," EDI said, her voice tinny in Shepard's earpiece. "It seems he runs a clinic in the Gozu District. I've forwarded directions to the clinic now."

"Thanks," Shepard said, breaking the connection and looking at the directions. He made a right accordingly and found a path deeper into Omega, one which led to a residential area. After a short distance he made another right and found a lift that would take them to the Gozu District.

They'd been on Omega for scarcely a half hour and already Shepard, Jacob, and Miranda itched to escape it.

Along one of the many dirty hallways that made the Gozu District, Shepard spotted something interesting. A holographic wanted poster showed a bad picture of a turian in full armor standing atop a shipping crate of some kind.

"Looks like this is one of our guys," Jacob said, moving next to Shepard to look at it. "'Wanted: Archangel. Known vigilante living in the area of the Gozu District, operating against the legitimate business interests of Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack companies. Reward for information leading to his capture: fifteen thousand credits.' They really want him dead."

Shepard scoffed at the idea of any of those organizations having "legitimate business interests." He smashed the projector that had been placed on the wall and signalled for the other two to move on. With any luck he'd find Archangel on this trip so he wouldn't have to come back to this station.

A similar holographic sign read "Clinic" and pointed the party down the right path at a fork in the path. Accordingly, the team proceeded to the right and immediately saw the door to the clinic. Two skeletal LOKI mechs stood guard, and turned their "heads" in creepy unison toward the newcomers.

The three of them went inside, finding the clinic to be a quiet, clean place. It contrasted so totally with the rest of Omega that Shepard thought it looked almost like the clinic he'd found Garrus in back on the Citadel two years ago.

An orange-skinned salarian stood in the lobby with his back turned to Shepard, speaking quietly with a human woman. At first, Shepard noted that the salarian had a pistol on his hip. That struck him as strange for a doctor, until he realized most doctors probably had to carry them on Omega. He noted next the missing portion of the salarian's right horn. Mordin Solus.

"Professor Mordin Solus?" Shepard asked as the human woman left. It couldn't hurt to be sure.

The salarian turned and glanced at Shepard with reptilian eyes that flicked rapidly from him to Miranda to Jacob. His finger twitched, but Shepard couldn't tell if it twitched toward his pistol or not. It certainly seemed like it. "Yes. Who are you?"

"I'm Commander Shepard. I'm on an important mission and I need your help."

"Important mission? Commander Shepard… alive? Not sure I can believe you," Mordin said. He ran his omni-tool and scanned Shepard. "Seems real. Either a clone or reports of death were… exaggerated. If you're Shepard, then I assume your 'important mission' involves 'Reapers'?"

"Believe it or not, it doesn't," Shepard replied. _It should, but _they _won't let me_. "I'm looking for someone with technological skills that can dissect new technology and adapt it. We figured you fit the bill."

"'Fit the bill', curious human idiom. New technology, you say? Careful dissection… perhaps you refer to the propensity of Covenant weapons to self-destruct when tampered with? Mission involves Covenant. Most interesting," Mordin said.

Shepard couldn't help but grin. Mordin was sharp, despite his advanced age. "It does."

"Is this Alliance-sponsored?" Mordin asked. He peered curiously at the Cerberus emblem embossed on the front of Miranda's jumpsuit. "Don't recognize that."

Shepard's grin faded. "No, this isn't an Alliance operation."

He could see the wheels turning in Mordin's head as he ran through the possibilities. "Not Spectre mission, Spectres tend to avoid Omega. Not Alliance. Most likely not Hierarchy, Primacy, or Republics business. Definitely not Salarian Union. Blue Suns? No…."

"We're with Cerberus," Miranda said.

"Cerberus? Ruled that out. Don't work well with 'aliens'," Mordin said. His eyes flicked to Miranda, then back to Shepard. "Interesting."

"It's a long story," Shepard said. "I'll fill you in when I get a chance."

Mordin nodded. "I understand. Things are slow in the clinic. Plenty of staff to handle it for a few weeks. Opportunity to examine Covenant technology quite rare."

"Welcome aboard," Shepard said, offering a hand. Mordin looked at the proffered hand and smiled, taking it and giving two quick shakes. "I do have a question for you. Do you know anything about Archangel?"

"The vigilante?" Mordin asked, guarded. "Why do you ask?"

"We're looking for him too. He's a world-class sniper that would be a great help on my mission," Shepard replied.

Mordin nodded. "I had some contacts with him before. Provided medical equipment and supplies from raids conducted on Blue Suns and Eclipse. I provided free medical care for his men. Worked well, Blue Suns learned to stay away from the clinic and didn't notice them."

Shepard didn't ask how the Blue Suns "learned" to stay away from the clinic. "Can you contact him?"

"Haven't heard from him for about a week, but highly-secured line exists. Caught vorcha trying to hack into it yesterday, but salarian encryption wasn't broken. I will call him," Mordin said, motioning for the three of them to wait while he retreated to a back room to make the call.

"He's a character," Jacob said as soon as Mordin turned the corner. Shepard nodded agreement.

Moments later, Mordin appeared again. "Archangel will meet us in the Kyzga District, in the bar Seidz."

Shepard turned to Miranda. "Go back to the _Normandy _and get it ready for departure. I want off Omega the second we get Archangel on board."

"Understood. The sooner we leave the better," Miranda said. She turned and left the clinic, going out the way they'd come.

Mordin, Jacob, and Shepard proceeded out the second door to a waiting skycar.

* * *

Incredibly, the twenty-minute flight to the Kyzga District took them someplace worse than the Gozu District. Here, the station's dirty brown light had somehow gotten darker and dirtier. Piles of refuse on either side of the paths reeked, making Shepard's eyes water.

At once, through the smog, they saw a blinking hologram that simply read, "Seidz."

Mordin lead them confidently toward the door, ignoring a bored batarian bouncer. Constant thudding club music beat at the thick air in the doorway, which opened into a corridor that went to the right- preventing anyone from looking into the bar through the door.

As soon as they turned the corner into the bar, Shepard realized he'd found the one place in the galaxy that made asari look skeezy. At the far end of the small room a single asari danced in the nude atop a table, looking bored and unhappy. Catcalls rose from around the table, and a few batarians attempted to touch her but jerked back when the bartender shocked them from afar with his omni-tool.

A chorus of boos met the latest shock, and one of the patrons hucked an empty bottle at the bartender, who dodged it deftly. He saw the newcomers and offered an "it's a living" shrug.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"No, thanks," Shepard said. The bartender shrugged again and went back to zapping those who tried to touch his dancer.

"He said to meet in the back," Mordin said, leading them through the small crowd toward a darker corner of the bar, separated from the dancer by a wall. Two lights worked here, casting a lurid glow across the room. Two humans were engaged in some sort of illicit activity in the dark, but their man sat opposite them, shrouded in darkness.

The turian rose to greet them, his facial tattoos merely purple lines stretching down his mandibles toward the floor.

"Archangel?" Shepard whispered, careful not to say the name too loudly.

"No," Mordin said.

"He's right," the turian confirmed.

Shepard's hand flew to his hip for his pistol. He'd been tricked.

"I wouldn't do that, Shepard," a familiar voice said from his left. "You're not being tricked."

"Who are you?" Shepard asked, moving his hand away from the pistol slowly.

"An old friend," Garrus Vakarian said, emerging from the shadows and smiling. "I thought you were dead."

"Garrus!" Shepard said, laughing despite himself. "It's good to see you. What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's a long story. What are _you_ doing here?" Garrus asked, taking a seat beside the other turian. Shepard sat opposite them.

"Looking for you," Shepard said. "I've got a mission I need your help for."

"Is it…" Garrus began, before straightening up. He nodded imperceptibly to the space behind Shepard just as a fully nude asari waitress walked up beside them.

"Can I get you boys anything?" she asked in a tone that she tried to make flirty but came off as regretful and distressed.

"No, thank you," Garrus said. The nude waitress looked at the couple in the corner and sighed, moving toward them. "Is it Reapers, Shepard?"

"No. Well, not entirely," Shepard said. He cast a glance toward Jacob, who stood in the entryway to the area they were in and removed the power source from his omni-tool and communicator. "Garrus, it's Cerberus. Remember them?"

"The people who killed that Admiral?" Garrus asked. "Yeah, I remember them. How did you get mixed up with them?"

"When we got attacked, I did die. Cerberus found my body and rebuilt it. Now they think I'm beholden to them and want me to go after the Covenant," Shepard said, keeping a steady eye on Jacob. He didn't care if Mordin heard, but Jacob could report back to Miranda, which he couldn't allow.

"The Covenant?" Garrus asked. "They're an odd group. I saw a whole bunch of them on the station the other day. I don't know what they were looking for, but Sidonis and I tailed them for awhile. They disappeared about as quickly as they arrived, taking off in one of those weird purple ships. What does Cerberus want you to do?"

"Kill their leadership to avenge Terra Nova," Shepard said, boiling the mission down into its basest terms.

"They're trying to make _you_ an assassin?" Garrus scoffed, smiling. "You lack the finesse. Last time you took down a target, you blew up half of the Citadel."

Shepard laughed. "You know it and I do. The Illusive Man doesn't, though."

"What's the plan then?" Garrus asked.

"I need you to come along. I need to keep the ruse going until I get a reason to go to the Citadel, where I can turn the ship over and get back into the right. This whole situation is FUBAR, and I need out. They can't focus on the Covenant… it's dangerous and stupid," Shepard said.

"You know I agree with you, Shepard. There's still work to be done here," Garrus said. He turned to the other turian. "I trust my men to handle it, though. Sidonis, you're in charge. Keep everyone busy until I get back."

The other turian, Sidonis, nodded in the affirmative and stood. "Understood. I'll get back now."

"Alright," Garrus said, stepping aside and watching Sidonis go. He seemed uneasy with this, but didn't complain. He looked to Shepard, quietly saying, "Let's go."

The four of them passed by the bouncing couple that began to moan loudly and made their way out of the disgusting bar. Sidonis made a clean getaway, disappearing into the dirty streets. Mordin lead the way back to the skycar, and they all piled in. It took off right away, darting out of the Kyzga District and into the open space within Omega.

Shepard remembered he'd left the power source out of his omni-tool and plugged it back in. Immediately, he heard EDI's synthetic voice. "Commander Shepard, what happened? You were incommunicado."

"Sorry, EDI," Shepard said. "Archangel requested that I make absolutely sure nobody could listen in on us from Omega."

"The line I use is encrypted, and I shut out any such attempts within 0.3 seconds, on average. I fail to see the necessity of such drastic action," EDI countered.

"It's not any lack of faith in your skills on my part," Shepard said.

"If you say so, Shepard," EDI said. "I will be sure to inform you that our lines of communication are secure in the future, to avoid communications blackouts such as that we just experienced."

"Okay," Shepard said.

"Signing off," EDI said. Shepard replied in kind and watched as the Afterlife club became visible.

Mordin parked the skycar right next to the docking tube to the _Normandy_, and the four made their escape onto the ship.

"Get us out of here," Shepard said as he passed the bridge. "Take us through the relay."

"Aye aye," Joker said, cocking an eye at the Commander. "What the hell is that smell?"

"It's a long story," Shepard said, mimicking Garrus' earlier statement. He'd have to fill Garrus in more completely later.

"Not to be insubordinate or anything, but can you get a shower before you come up here again?" Joker asked.

"I'll think about it."

Mordin, Jacob, and Garrus followed Shepard into the CIC, though Jacob broke off and headed back to the armory. Shepard lead the other two to the left, into the laboratory.

"They've set us up with state-of-the-art equipment," he said to the salarian. "We haven't got any samples of Covenant tech currently, though."

"Fine," Mordin said. "Will keep busy by examining and tuning up the machinery."

"Sounds good," Shepard said. He left the room, entering the hallway that linked the lab and the armory. Garrus followed him in.

"Where do you want to go?" Shepard asked.

"I guess let me take a look at your guns," Garrus said. "I'd be willing to bet they're miscalibrated."

"Our primary weapon platforms are calibrated to 100% efficiency," EDI said, appearing beside the door of the conference room.

"Well," Garrus said, "it's 100% _human_ efficiency. There's a difference between that and turian efficiency."

"Efficiency doesn't change based on a different race's perception. The figures are universal," EDI replied.

"Whatever you say," Garrus said. EDI disappeared, leaving them alone. "That's annoying."

Shepard merely nodded agreement. "The forward batteries are down one level, through the mess hall, and beyond the cryo-pods."

"You're sending me in alone?" Garrus asked jokingly.

"I've got a meeting," he said, looking at his omni-tool. It flashed with the message that the Illusive Man wanted to talk, and it was urgent.

"Alright, talk to you later," Garrus said, leaving through the lab door. Shepard opened the conference room and found the communications pad prepared already. He stepped on and watched the room change to a projection of the Illusive Man's office.

"Shepard," the Illusive Man said. "We've got a lead on the Covenant."

"What is it?" Shepard asked immediately.

"I've intercepted distress signals from a secret facility on Khar'shan detailing an attack by Covenant forces. They're driving toward the facility, and the defense is breaking. The whole Batarian Fleet is converging on the attackers as we speak- there isn't much time."

"What are they doing on Khar'shan?" Shepard asked.

"We don't know. The messages didn't detail the Covenant's objectives, just that the batarians are under attack," the Illusive Man replied, snuffing out a cigarette but not lighting a new one.

"Alright," Shepard said. "Send the coordinates to EDI. I'll try to figure out what they want with the batarians."

"Already done. She's put them into the computer," the Illusive Man said. "You do what has to be done, Commander."

"I will," Shepard said.

"Good. EDI tells me you've recovered Dr. Solus and Archangel. I can see now you're a good investment, Shepard. Keep it up."

Promptly, the feed ceased and Shepard was back in the conference room. "That takes the record for the shortest meeting ever," he mumbled. He stood in silence for a few moments, digesting the redirection of their mission. Also of note, the usually wordy and long-winded Illusive Man almost seemed rushed.

Khar'shan, the batarian homeworld, had a strict anti-human policy. Landing there and getting caught would spark a war between the Alliance and the Batarian Hegemony. Landing there at all would likely start a war. This would be the best possible test of the new _Normandy_'s stealth systems.

"Commander, EDI is telling me we need to go to Khar'shan. Is that enough evidence for me to shut her down? She's clearly gone insane, or rampant, or whatever it is for AI's," Joker said through the conference room's PA system.

"No, she's not insane Joker. We've got to go to Khar'shan," Shepard said.

A few moments of silence ensued, then, "Okay, Commander. Setting course for Khar'shan."


End file.
